


Impulsive Actions

by inkbled



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Blood and Violence, F/F, F/M, Hypersexuality, Minor Character Death, One Night Stands, Self-Harm, Self-Harm ( non-suicidal ), Self-Hatred, Semi-Sexual Themes, Sex Addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27275254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkbled/pseuds/inkbled
Summary: The Deputy keeps digging herself deeper and deeper in the hole that she's placed herself in ever since coming here.Just musings of my own version of the Deputy.𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: semi-sexual themes, self harm ( non-suicidal ).
Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge/Joey Hudson, Female Deputy | Judge/Minor Character
Kudos: 4





	Impulsive Actions

Running away from that hellhole was her first mistake, especially when it meant having to leave Joey behind — it ate away at the Junior Deputy for _weeks_ and Stevie wanted nothing more than to march her way back into that horrid place just to save her. Actually… her _first_ mistake was not tackling down John fucking Seed down to the ground when she had been given the chance and slitting his throat right then and there. Yeah, that _was_ her first mistake; not being able to stop that bastard when the chance was presented to her was beginning to weigh heavily on her mind. She’s wheezing by the time she gets back to the closest outpost and gets patched up, but she can’t get those creeping thoughts out of her head, even when she downs a bottle of whiskey, showers, and goes to bed that night. Sleeping correctly never was something she could do, but her sleeping habits have gone all down the drain now that she’s been stuck in Hope County.

It takes a while, but Stevie is able to finally rescue her friend and the others who had been trapped there. She was able to sleep a bit easier knowing she had been able to save innocents, but the echo of Eden Gate’s very own self-proclaimed Inquisitor’s voice began to weigh heavy on her mind. John Seed had no idea who she was, but had insisted that her own sin was Wrath. He had _no clue_ who she was but claimed that Wrath had claimed her mind, soul, and body; yet here he was, parading his own sins in the form of tattoos and scars — it made her blood boil with rage and anger. What made matters worse was when Sharky Boshaw had tried to claim that there was some wild _sexual tension_ between the Deputy and Eden Gate’s Reaper. Stevie shrugged it off at first, but the man did not give up and had even suggested they’d _fuck it out,_ which in turn earned the man a black eye and busted lip. Sure, she had a streak with men and women alike before coming to this secluded place in Montana; it came from her days as a rebel, thinking she could do whatever she wanted as a teenager before ultimately deciding she’d stop and end up becoming a cop like her dad to make him proud.

However, despite her achievements at the Academy and trying to turn a new leaf, that same desire stuck with her… it just got more and more hungry the more they tried to ignore it.

There’s another sin that crawls on her skin, etches itself in the form of hickies and bruises and claw marks. She doesn’t realize it’s back until she’s laying down naked next to her friend a few nights after, doesn’t realize it until the taste of sweat on skin is fading from her mouth and she’s wiping the remaining slick on her fingers onto a tissue from a box nearby. That’s when she realizes that there’s no way to hide from this, nowhere to _run or hide_. Joseph’s eyes are everywhere, John’s propaganda is drilled into the heads of Peggies, and Faith’s song is strumming the heartstrings of Angels — the Deputy’s deeds are sure to get to one of them before the end of the week and it’ll be another song and dance with John Seed, his words singing and echoing within her brain. She can already hear him chanting the word, over and over again, as if repeating it will make her finally give in.

_Lust, lust, lust_ —

How many men and women has she slept with during this time? How many? Eyes glance over to their friend’s resting figure, the small movement of chest rising and falling softly; Joey deserved some sleep, especially with how Stevie found her in that bunker that John would have continued to call home if she hadn’t blown it up. Instead of waking her friend, she gets dressed and goes out, continuing her hunt for Peggies and tries to rid the creeping voices in the back of her mind, continuing their song of her awakened sin.

Days pass by with no word from John Seed or his family besides the blaring music that comes and goes from Peggies and their vehicles. No word from Joey, who probably is more focused on other things rather than the one-night stand she had with the Junior Deputy and honestly? Stevie is okay with the unspoken agreement of not speaking of it, it saves her the time of having to explain that she can’t allow someone to distract her from the main objective… though the Deputy already knows that it’s just a bullshit excuse to continue her other one-night stands. She’d have to take Sharky up on his offer at some point, anyways.

It’s night by the time she’s made it to another outpost and there’s already some pretty thing distracting her with simple gestures of offering a place to sleep for the night and offering some food that he’s made himself. She tries _so hard_ to ignore him, but his eagerness and willingness makes her weak — they can’t even get to his place and have to sneak off into the woods nearby while discarding their clothes and having hands touch every inch of skin that they can find. She wasn’t smart, didn’t notice the small group of Peggies who had inched their way close to the outpost, didn’t see the flash of camera until it was too late, didn’t even bother to go after them and instead favored the eager male beneath her, whining her name and begging for more. No one would be able to ignore those honey-sweet words for long and the Deputy needed to quiet her own hunger.

Despite the satisfying tingle throughout her body and exhaustion trying oh-so desperately to soothe her soul into a deep slumber, the young woman can’t help fight off her sleep, even when she’s in a comfortable bed with a warm body next to her. Olive hues move away from the sleeping figure, teeth worrying on her bottom lip to the point of it bleeding a small bit, but even the taste of that coppery tang can’t stop her worries. Just like any other night, she slips from the bed, like a ritual that cannot be broken, and leaves the small house to meet the bitter cold night that stings her skin and steals away the exhaustion that was once clouding her head. But it isn’t without regret, because as soon as the icy wind reawakens her, so does the guilt, pain, and sin that claw inside her mind.

_**Sin must be exposed so it may be absolved.** _

A shiver of disgust runs deep within her, making her body quake and quiver at John’s voice creeping inside of her very mind. Stevie sneers at the voice, clenching her hands into fists before moving to find the car she had driven from Fall’s End all the way to this outpost, nestled so closely to the Henbane River and to Faith’s own region. Even though she’s so close to her region, John’s voice still resonates inside of the woman’s mind, taunting and sneering and 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. It isn’t until her car is parked a few miles out from the outpost when she notices that the compartment that has been locked is now opened and containing an envelope. Something akin to anxiety runs up and down her spine as she reaches for it, dark green eyes narrowing as she tears it open with her bare teeth and spits out the paper so that she can focus on the pictures that tumble out.

The pictures were hurried, from one of those old polaroid cameras that her granny owned but Stevie would steal in order to take photos of things like the neighbor’s dogs and a broken branch from the backyard. They’re blurry, not professional at all, but the Deputy can see her figure as clear as day, riding the man who had tempted her with baby blue eyes and a charming smile. Majority of the photos are clean, but a few have words like _**HEATHEN**_ and _**SHE-DEVIL**_ scribbled hastily with sharpie, but what catches her eye is the word _**LUST**_. A shout of rage comes from her almost instantly, fingers ripping at the photo until it's nothing but small pieces of plastic and paper. The car is suddenly being turned on and she’s stomping on the gas pedal, eyes narrowing as she catches sight of a group of Peggies stationed nearby — the car kicks into gear as it swerves off of the road and towards its new destination; another Peggie outpost. It’s nothing more than a way to relieve the anger that is bubbling inside of her gut, the pure hatred of being labeled something she wishes she wasn’t, and what better way is there to make it disappear by running in, guns blazing, in an outpost full of the bastards who dare claim to know who, or 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵, she was.

It’s so easy to pick them off, one by one, with the sniper she’s earned herself… it’s so easy to shoot the man who was calling for back-up last minute, watching as his body crumbles and seeing the flare gun never go off into the sky. It’s easy to rush in, shooting and killing off the last remaining bit of cultists before spitting on the bodies and watching as they catch aflame once she’s poured enough gasoline on everything. The men and women who come to help clean out the outpost are usually the ones to burn the bodies, but with her unquenched rage, Stevie had to do it herself, just this once.

It’s not enough, however, and it only takes a few moments to realize what she has to do to quiet the hungry voices screaming for more within her. She’s cleaning off her bowie knife while sitting down near the roaring flames when it comes to her, like an epiphany that Joseph claims to have whenever he speaks the word of God — and before she knows it, the hot sting of pain is already singing to her nerves and making her cry out in agony. Fist connects with the metal container behind her, tears forming and rolling down freckled cheeks so freely, but the only problem is that Stevie doesn’t know if she’s crying from the fiery pain of the knife cutting into her inner thigh, or if she’s mourning the people she’s had to slaughter in order to protect the cause she has so willingly taken apart of.

As soon as the blade is finished with the last letter, she stabs the metal into the ground and cries out more freely, this time in relief. The voices, John’s voice, are no longer mocking her, jabbing at her, making her feel the guilt she knows she’s had since the beginning; it’s all gone. All it had to take was to carve her sin into her flesh, just like Joseph and John had done to themselves. It doesn’t take long for a group from the other outpost to arrive, it doesn’t take long for a doctor to come to her aid and clean off the self-inflicted wound that Stevie has given herself, and it doesn’t take long for her to be back on her feet in an hour’s time, even with people calling for her to stay. The doctor hadn’t even mentioned or cared to ask about the word on her thigh, nor did he assume who it had been caused by.

No one would care or even bother to notice the word **Lust** carved oh-so perfectly into her skin.

_**Sin must be exposed so it may be absolved.** _


End file.
